Oh. My. God.

I woke up this morning and called my bestie and she was having a terrible time of it trying to parallel park. Which begs the question, why would one be parallel parking so early on a Sunday morning? She was going to church.

Now, neither of us have had a stellar week so I got up and decided I was going to church too. Why not? I have a love/hate relationship with (maybe you are, maybe you aren't) "God" so out of defiance I put on my new sweater with a bulldog on the front, skipped my shower and headed off to St. Mike's.

This was clearly a risky choice. I haven't been able to be in a Catholic church without having a panic attack and I am out of Ativan.

Thanks to the "not stellar" week I mentioned, I had the craziest panic attack yesterday - despite getting a massage and going to yoga - and I woke up this morning with my chest still aching. Yes, I know, I am killing myself with this stress issue. 

I would probably describe myself as agnostic, but I'm still a bit of a religious mutt. I went to Catholic church a bit as a kid with my dad. I was raised Jehovah's Witness. I've done research into everything from Atheism to Buddhism. I have a Christmas tree in the living room, an idol of Ganesh on the bookcase and Fred, my Buddha on the table near the window. I believe in Fred, Ganesh and the Universe, but God? I'm not so sure.

But maybe I do. I had a hard time following the sequence of Catholic mass (yoga is easier), up, down, kneel, sing, up, the priest says something and everyone says something back and I have no idea what they are talking about. But I did say the Lords Prayer along with all of them and when we knelt and it was silent, I finally, after all these years, talked to God. It was hardly reverent or poetic, I just said: "Fuck you." Then I said it again and again and again until I thought that if he's out there, he might have heard me.

Even before I lost my faith I used to ask God what he was doing. What more did I need to learn? Hadn't I suffered enough? I know I only have first world problems to deal with and I'm grateful for that: family, relationships, money, work. For better or worse, I suffer though through the suffering of other people and I've seen enough of that. The JWs used to say that everything we believed in was necessary because without it, what was the purpose of life? My uncle passed away awhile ago and it made me revisit the question. A friend I've had for almost 20 years is dying now at 46, the same age he was, and I have to admit, I don't know what the purpose of life is. I don't believe in an afterlife where we are rewarded or punished, I don't have any kids who would have given me some purpose, even though I really wanted them.

The re-emergence of some family issues lately and talking to my sister has brought up all these memories. I've been flipping through old photo albums and I have to stop myself from pulling out pictures from the past and putting them back into frames.

I have to say though that I thoroughly enjoyed being back in "God's house". Unlike the Kingdom Halls I grew up in, churches are great what with all the stained glass, the incense, the boy's choir that sings beautifully. They read some scriptures from the Bible, a book I've read straight through so many times I almost know it by heart in two languages.

My friends were shocked this morning to hear of my plans for the day. Which church? They wanted to know. That was a no-brainer. Catholics believe Jesus is God and he seems like he was a really nice guy. Half of the Bible sucks, it's sexist and racist and judgmental. But the other half is one of the most beautiful works of literature ever produced. If they just keep focusing on that, I'll go back to church anytime.